


Finding Faith

by heavnofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Fluff, Gen, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavnofhell/pseuds/heavnofhell
Summary: Sometimes it's hard to admit when the end has begun.





	Finding Faith

“I trained at your side! What right have you to order me to stand down?”

“I am your commander.” 

“And I am one of Father’s best warriors, and any good commander would utilize his strongest soldiers when victory is in question, not cast them to the rear!” 

“It is not your place to question me, Gabriel.” 

“I am your brother!” 

“And that juvenile and entitled line of reasoning is precisely why you serve beneath me, and have not been given a Host of your own to command, Little Brother.” Michael’s voice, usually so level and authoritative, finally gained a glimmer of emotion, reminiscent of a smoldering flame being fed a bit of kindling, responding with an unexpected flash of heat before quieting down once more. He turned to face the younger Archangel, bright eyes meeting the warm and defiant gaze staring back at him. 

“You are dismissed.” And, just like that, the inarguably commanding tone had returned. 

“We will not discuss this again.” With an elegant and simple gesture of his hand, he turned away again, leaving any words yet on his brother’s tongue to wilt and crumble away. With a heavy sigh and a slight ruffling of his wings, Gabriel clenched his fists at his side, turning on his heels and marching determinedly away. He came to an abrupt halt between his two brothers, who had been watching the exchange from a respectful distance. 

“Big Brother.” He continued to look straight ahead, but Lucifer pulled his cool gaze from their brother and commander, turning his head curiously to the right, wordlessly prompting the younger to continue. 

“Won’t you persuade him to change his mind? He is being unreasonable.” The bitterness was as evident in the sweet vocals of the youngest Archangel as it was in his agitated Grace, and in a beat of silence that followed, Lucifer met Raphael’s steady and stoic stare over their little brother’s head. No words needed to be exchanged for his feelings on the matter to be made clear. Gabriel was overreacting, overreaching, overconfident. 

“Raphael.” Of all the brothers, these soldiers of Heaven, it was always Lucifer who had the uncanny ability to bring a sense of calm into a situation, his very speech a melodic lullaby to soothe any burning rage. 

“Yes, Brother?” Raphael was at once ready to receive instruction, his rich and clever eyes looking to Lucifer in anticipation. 

“Would you please accompany Gabriel in assessing and rejuvenating the morale of the soldiers? I’ve seen disheartened faces today. A display of that infectious enthusiasm you two possess would certainly bolster confidence, don’t you think?” Lucifer’s smile was soft and affectionate, belying no traces of trickery or embellishment. It was well known to the four Archangels that their fellow troops were more perceptive to the youngest of them, and were apt to regard the First Prince and the Light Bringer as both awesome and intimidating. 

“Of course, Lucifer.” Raphael nodded obediently, another nod offered in Gabriel’s direction as he stepped forward, wings unfurling as he awaited the younger’s compliance. 

“Gabriel.” The melodious voice, while no less adoring, now carried with it the notes of sympathy that beckoned one to halt and listen, the sweet promise of being understood a temptation strong enough to quell any spark of defiance. He placed a gentle hand upon his brother’s shoulder, both a comfort and a command. 

“I beg you: do not confuse love with distrust. It is not your failure that Michael fears.” The younger’s zealous eyes became curious and thoughtful, but he only nodded slowly, reaching up to brush his fingers over Lucifer’s cool hand, the touch lasting a moment before he moved away to join Raphael. 

In a breath, both were gone, leaving the two eldest Archangels in a peaceful quiet. Lucifer closed his eyes a moment, feeling his brother’s Grace as it ebbed and waned, waiting until it had become relatively controlled to reopen his eyes, moving forward and standing beside the eldest in unassuming silence. 

“He is determined.” Michael’s strong voice finally stirred up the still air between them, though Lucifer hardly reacted, the slightest softening of his distant gaze the only outward indication that he had even heard his brother. 

“He gets that from you.” That, however, brought a slow smile to the Archangel’s lips and, with a languid movement, he turned his head to study his elder brother’s profile for a moment. 

“He is righteous and dutiful. He gets that from you.” A rare flash of tempered amusement crossed Michael’s face, causing Lucifer’s eyes to brighten with satisfaction. The moment passed, and the younger cast his gaze out upon the stars once again, more than accustomed to these intimate and companionable silences they often shared. In fact, so ready was he to remain in the serene atmosphere their perfectly complementary Graces created between them, that the sound of his elder brother’s voice left him in a fleeting state of bemusement. 

“He is so curious.” The tone of Michael’s voice brought forth yet another nuance of his complicated personality, the traces of melancholy and confusion not going unnoted by the younger angel at his side. But, still, Lucifer waited, his cool gaze unfaltering as he searched his brother’s face for something more, Michael continuing on with little hesitation. 

“He’s always asking questions… looking for more than what he is given. And I worry…” It was almost alarming, not only hearing such a rare confession from the stoic commander, but seeing him so near to being overwhelmed, his thought left unfinished, hanging off of those eloquent lips like the silent cry of one suffocating. But, after only a moment of reconciling this perplexing display of emotion, Lucifer found his footing once more, exhaling a slow, calming breath. 

“Gabriel has always been a curious child, Brother.” Canting his head, Lucifer willed the elder to meet his eye, Michael’s dark stare alight with a spark of turmoil, like embers burning in the night. The Morning Star rewarded the gaze with a soft smile, his Grace wrapping around the other’s, like the cooling touch of fresh water against fevered flesh. 

“You need not be concerned over his loyalty. After all, is not you to whom he runs when his mind is restless?“ Whatever minimal amount Lucifer had been able to ease his brother’s worry, it seemed to be undone with that last question, the lines of uncertainty returning to Michael’s face, the heat of his Grace suddenly pushing against the soothing tendrils of Lucifer’s own. 

“At times, yes. But it is you, Lucifer, whom he has taken into his confidence. Do not think that I am blind to your interactions, muted as they are.” 

“Michael…” Lucifer felt a sting from the words, brow furrowing slightly as he considered the odd accusation. 

“It is true, Gabriel does confide in me. But, Brother, were his words to be in any way heretical, I would guide his return to the virtuous path. You know that I would.” Lucifer bowed his head minimally, a sign of reverence and sincerity, while Michael weighed his words, considering him as a judge would the accused. At last, the tension once more lifted from the shoulder of the eldest, and he sighed softly, a slow nod putting Lucifer at ease. 

“I do. Forgive me, Lucifer. The battle was long today. I am weary.” 

“You needn’t apologize, Brother.” Another heavy sigh, the younger unable to ignore the heaviness it placed upon his heart to hear his brother sound so worn. It was more than just his strength and his Grace that needed replenishing; Michael was filled with concern, over what, Lucifer could only guess. 

“You fight with fervor, Michael. And do you know, when he challenges and confronts you, it is only because Gabriel approaches battle in much the same way as do you? He is confused, and that drives his temper.” 

“Careful, Little Brother. You presume much. I know my place.” The sharp tone of the commander, mixed with equal parts softness from a brother… Lucifer offered another small bow, but did not bite his tongue. 

“I would never doubt it. But are we not all confused, Brother? I am.” Michael turned his eyes at once toward the Light Bringer, clearly ready to hear what he was trying to tell him. And, so, Lucifer continued. 

“We fight to oppress and subdue our Father’s Creations. At his command, no less. He would have us destroy them all, if such a thing were possible.” Here Lucifer’s voice grew quieter, aware that he toed a dangerous line, but trusting his elder brother wholly, as he always had. 

“I would do anything for Father. I would give my life at His command, without hesitation. You know this. But when we fight these… these ancients… do you not consider what they are?” 

“Lucifer. Don’t.” Michael turned to face him fully now, and though Lucifer had expected to see anger, it was the fear in his brother’s expression that hit him hardest. Even so…

“They are our brothers, Michael. They are children of our Father, and -” 

“Enough!” The heat from Michael’s Grace was strong enough to force Lucifer to take a step back, though he didn’t break eye-contact with the Prince of Heaven, his own icy gaze bright and stormy from emotion. 

“Your words are treacherously close to blasphemous, Lucifer. You are because Father willed you to be. To question Him is to question your own worth. Do you understand?” The severity of Michael’s tone was met by the intransigent stare of the younger Archangel, though, as the quiet settled over them again, the pretense began to fade, Lucifer’s erratic breathing filling the space between them, his cold glare crumpling into an expression of shame and grief as he finally lowered his gaze to his feet. 

It pained Michael to see his brother that way. Any of his brothers. But that was the duty he bore upon his shoulders. He was, first and foremost, a commander. A mouthpiece of God, there to keep his soldiers in line and on task, and he could not offer exceptions. There could be no conflict of duty and emotion. It could not be afforded. 

“They defied Him, Lucifer.” And there it was again, the raging fire dying down, shifting from the flames of authority to the soft warmth of familiarity and love. It was that temper that made Michael so formidable, so very lethal and unpredictable. 

“I have never doubted your love, nor your loyalty. We will never become the monsters we now face. Not so long as we serve and honor our Father.” He took a step closer, closing the distance between them again, reaching out to place one hand upon his brother’s shoulder, and then, in a gesture so rare that Lucifer could easily recount all the times it had been offered before, he moved to run his fingers through the younger’s hair. 

“We fight to show Him our love, and you, undoubtedly, are His strongest warrior.” The unexpected praise managed to eradicate all hints of woefulness yet lingering on Lucifer’s face, and he looked up to meet his brother’s now apologetic stare, a slow, humble smile tugging at his lips. 

“And we shall resume the fight as soon as possible.” Lucifer’s voice remained as calm and certain as ever, and he nodded in a display of gratitude and understanding. 

“However, your recovery is as important, if not more so, as that of any soldier. And, if you would care to indulge me, I would be honored to tend to your wings before we rejoin the Host.” His smile grew a bit, the underlying tension of war giving way to the comfortable intimacy of family, and, fight it as he may, Michael quickly found himself returning the offer with the shadow of a smile of his own, dropping his hand back to Lucifer’s shoulder with an agreeable nod. 

They would fight again soon. There would be battle after battle, each one bringing with it more loss, more pain, more questions… Each and every war seemed to pull at the delicate threads that held the four eldest brothers together. Michael knew it. Lucifer knew it. Gabriel and Raphael were young, but they were not blind. Something was slipping away, and though each one of them grasped desperately to hold onto whatever that was, the change seemed inevitable. 

And, of course, there was that fated day when, for whatever reason, Lucifer and Michael would find their completion in a bond yet unknown, a cryptic word of Gospel passed onto them from their Father with little explanation. But that day had not yet come, and until their destiny had been made clear, they were family, and that was something they could all agree to be worth the fight.


End file.
